Oceans of Us: An Age Gap Forbidden Romance
Oceans of Us: Chapter 16

“Paisleyyy!” Alaric hollers at the bottom of the staircase, his hands on either side of his mouth like he’s a boxing coach going into the last round. “It’s going to be tomorrow morning in a minute if you don’t come down!”

“Okay, one second!” Paisley calls back from somewhere upstairs.

“You said that for the past twenty minutes! We’re going to miss the reservation!”

“One second!”

Alaric dramatically rolls his eyes in defeat and plops down on the couch beside me when he rejoins me in his open plan living room. He smiles, gesturing to the whiskey glass I’m holding. “Yeah, I’m going to need that in a second.”

I chuckle. “Patience, brother.”

“I’m trying. I love her, but I swear I’m always late whenever we go out.”

I just smile.

Paisley could make us thirty minutes late or miss my birthday dinner/her graduation celebration and I wouldn’t mind. Just seeing her… it’ll make up for it. Whenever those honey eyes meet mine, it takes every fiber of my being not to dive into her tempting touch.

I want more, Saint.

God, how badly I wanted to put this agonizing angst to bed and kiss her right there and then in my Maserati yesterday. Paisley. I can’t stop thinking about her and that Harley getaway we have planned for tomorrow. I’m counting down the seconds.

“Saint?”

I rub a hand over my stubbled jaw and nod toward my friend. “Yeah?”

“Everything okay, man? It seems as though you’ve got something on your mind… no?”

Yes, your daughter.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Alaric smirks. “Bullshit. You were smiling to yourself. So, tell me, who’s the woman?”

I can’t help but laugh, heat rising up my neck because this is the second time this week one of my friends has asked me this exact question. First Nico. Now Alaric.

“Why does it immediately have to be about a woman?”

“Because you’re not denying the fact that it could be.”

Shit.

I need to deflect where this conversation is going ASAP. When I stepped into Alaric’s house half an hour ago, I could sense something wasn’t right with him. He let me in the loop about how his mind has been a little clouded with thoughts of Faye, Paisley’s mother. I’ve been trying to get his mind off it ever since with a man-to-man pep talk and liquor.

I shrug nonchalantly. “I was just thinking about life, you know, in general.”

Alaric shakes his head, unconvinced, grinning as if he knows something I don’t. “Nah-ah, man. It’s some woman, I’m telling you. If you don’t give me a name, I will turn into Maxwell Smart and solve this shit myself. I thought we didn’t keep secrets.”

So much for deflecting, Lisconti.

I can’t even look him straight in the eyes anymore. Clasping my hands over my lap, I breathe out a long breath.

Think of something, chickenshit.

Anything.

“Okay,” I say after a while. “I was… thinking of Lea.”

The name burns my throat and instantly the pounding in my chest intensifies. The pit of guilt I’ve been spiraling in for the past thirteen years deepens.

I still can’t believe what happened.

Still can’t comprehend how one single second can change your life for good.

Still blame myself.

“Oh shit, man. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push it.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s just tough, you know?”

“I completely understand. It’s crazy how quickly life can change. So fucked up.” Alaric squeezes my right shoulder as I glance over at him. “I can’t begin to imagine what’s going on in your head, Saint, but you know I’m always here, right? You know we can talk about it whenever you like. Even if it’s just needing me to listen, I’m here.”

I feel bad at the way his light brown eyes soften into a space of comfort. I know I shouldn’t have said her name, but it was the only legitimate answer Alaric will believe.

“Thank you, man, it really means a hell of a lot.”

He smiles and pulls me into a half hug, playfully slapping my back. “You’ve got this, Saint. Make her proud tonight, all right?”

“Mhmmm.”

As we pull back from the embrace, the loud thuds of Paisley’s heels slapping against the oak stairs pull both our attention behind us and my heart feels like it stops beating.

Holy fuck.

Paisley’s hot gaze flickers to mine for a fraction of a second and that’s all I need for the past thoughts of deceiving Alaric to dissolve. The moment she grins at me from the landing and I mirror the action, she turns her concentration on her father and I’m done for.

Those perfect heart-shaped lips are a glossy delight this Friday evening, painted with the most gorgeous shade of red I’ve ever seen. Her silky dark brown hair is tied back in a perfect high ponytail, perfect to wrap my hand around and sexily tug. Definitely perfect for that.

Dio…

Paisley is already a natural beauty, so seeing her like this has my hard cock throbbing in my slacks. I don’t trust myself to say a word out loud, because right now my brain and mouth don’t have the best line of communication. It’s more like my mouth and cock are on the same team, while my brain is a couple of miles behind, alongside my fucking sanity. And so, in a bid to calm my sexually frustrated mind, I reach out for my whiskey and drink.

But… it’s no fucking use because that stunning, dark red dress she has on—I’m pretty sure it belongs to the ‘How to kill Saint Lisconti in five seconds’ collection. It’s as if this dress was made for her.

So fuckin’ beautiful.

The mini cocktail dress barely reaches Paisley’s mid-thigh, and that’s not even the most daring aspect. With thin spaghetti straps, the neckline is low with a deep V, displaying the most cleavage I’ve seen from her since the day of her eighteenth birthday where she was locked out with a robe that barely covered anything.

God.

I can’t look away from the luminous shine of the satin dress.

As I finish off my liquor, I keep my heated gaze on her over the glass, lowering my eyes down her beautiful body, taking my time with those gorgeous hips, killer legs, and gold strappy heels that have me feeling an insatiable hunger. Like I’m the big bad wolf in this twisted fantasy. Paisley has gone daring tonight. She seems the happiest she’s ever been and I fuckin’ love it.

Alaric, on the other hand…

“Jesus, Paisley! You forgot to put pants on and a jumper on top.”

Paisley cocks her head to the side and gestures down her body. I don’t miss the death grip she has on the chain of her gold purse bag. “I’m wearing a dress. Why would I need either?”

“Because you’re not wearing a dress, you’re wearing a small scrap of fabric. Where the hell did you buy it anyway? I’m going to call the manufacturers and tell them we’re missing the other half of the dress. You’re going to be surrounded by guys tonight. I don’t exactly want to spend my night kicking all of their asses.”

“Trust me, Dad, they won’t look.”

“Won’t look?” Alaric screeches in full protective mode. “Ah, hello, Paisley. Have you ever met a man in your life?” He then turns to me, and my eyes instantly snap away from his daughter and to him instead. “Saint, we’re going to be spending the night kicking their asses, aren’t we?”

More like kicking my ass.

Paisley playfully rolls her eyes at her father, and I chuckle. Little does Alaric know I’m the asshole friend he should be worrying about. The one who wants to accept the challenge in his daughter’s eyes, that look of growing desire.

I lift my hands in surrender. “Oh no, I ain’t getting into this. This is between you and Paisley.”

My best friend gasps in disbelief and it’s the most hilarious thing. “Did you just say you’re ‘not getting into this’? Man, help a guy out. I don’t want freaking idiots gawking at her all night.”

“She’s eighteen, Alaric. She can wear whatever she likes, just like we can wear whatever we want. Fair call?”

“See! Even Saint’s on my side!” Paisley grins over at us, giving me a secret wink when Alaric rubs his hand over his face. “I’ll be fine, Dad. Let me enjoy being free for one night. You know I never go out,” Paisley adds with a sigh and proceeds to cross her arms over her chest.

I tell myself not to go there, not to let my eyes lower to her even more exposed cleavage, but it’s a fucking magnet. I’m definitely the fucking asshole friend for sure.

“Plus, I never wear things like this. I’m not trying to be Carrie Bradshaw in college, but something close would be nice.”

“Carrie who?”

Paisley grins. “Forget it.”

“God, help me.” It takes a few moments before her father eventually groans in defeat. “Okay, fine. You’re right, you should wear it if it makes you happy. But just bring a jacket in case you get cold later in the night.”

“No, thanks, Mom.”

Laughter echoes through the room before Alaric’s phone starts blaring Will Smith’s “Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It” and I can’t help but shake my head with a smile.

He pulls out his phone from his jeans pocket and groans, “Shit. It’s Nico. He’s probably there already. Give me your keys, Saint, I’ll wait for you both in your car.”

I throw Alaric the keys of my car and he catches them so damn smoothly with his non-dominant hand as if it were nothing.

Grinning, I gesture to the keys. “Don’t get used to them.”

“Sorry, can’t hear ya, I’m a Maserati guy now,” he mocks with a smirk before walking toward the front door.

The second I hear him on the phone and the sound of the door slamming shut, I look at Paisley. She’s smiling, her honey browns already on me as she takes a step closer, her heels slapping on the hardwood floor. “Thanks for having my back earlier.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something to me, so thank you.”

Paisley approaches, my crisp white button-down shirt and charcoal slacks inches from her. Her lingering jasmine perfume drives me wild because it has me getting lost in a world full of her.

“You look so damn beautiful,” I murmur, my voice low. It’s so obvious how aroused I am by the sexy growl at the end. “You are so damn beautiful, wildflower.”

Paisley grins, her smokey eyeshadow bringing out her sparkling honey eyes. It’s crazy how quickly her warmth transfers through me the second my arms wrap around her petite waist, and I pull her into a tight, prolonged embrace. She completes the hug by resting her head in the crook of my neck. My forbidden embrace tightens, kissing the side of her head before my nose buries in her ponytail. Hmm, she smells so good.

Paisley is pinned against me, yet with the current sexual tension between us… it’s as if she’s right underneath me. There’s a look in her eyes, one of passionate challenge, and it sends shock waves across my entire body. I imagine carrying her upstairs right now and burying myself between her thighs. Her gorgeous red lip-gloss wrapped around my cock. Her screaming out my name as I give her what we both so desperately crave deep down inside.

Yeah, Paisley fucking Reign has destroyed me badly.

“Happy early Birthday, Saint,” she whispers seductively by my ear as if it’s a secret—our secret. Her lips brush against my spikey stubble as she kisses my cheek. Her touch leaves a permanent throb. A permanent reminder of her.

“Grazie, amore.”

“I have a birthday gift for you… It’s a surprise.”

My brows perk up at this. “What kind of surprise?”

“A surprise. Something I… want to give to you tomorrow when it’s just us.”

I grin. “Give me a clue.”

Paisley smirks with a cute laugh that has my eyes darkening in pure heat. “Do you know what a surprise is, Lisconti?”

“Apparently not. Oh, come on. Just one clue. I want in.”

“Nah-ah.”

“Fine, have it your way.” The chuckle vibrates my throat. I lean to brush my warm lips against her ear and hold her closer to me. “I’m looking forward to it being just us again.”

Desire burns in her eyes.

So beautiful.

“Me too.” A devilish smirk works its way up her lips as her hands trail up my dress shirt like scorching fire destined to set me free. The first button of my shirt is already undone, but I swear to God she can feel my cock jolt against her lower stomach when she unbuttons the second. “That’s better…” Her sensual eyes replace mine. “Oh, wow…”

“Wow, what?”

“Your eyes,” Paisley says, glancing between them. “I’ve never seen them so dark and sexy.”

Holy shit.

The last part has me sucking in a breath as I tower over her. I lose control and lower my hands down to her ass. My gaze settles on those glossy lips that part open, so goddamn ready for me.

Kiss her, my mind taunts me. Kiss her right now.

I wrap my left hand around her ponytail in a sexy kind of way and tug. It’s the hottest thing witnessing her initial gasp turn into a sensual grin as her head tilts back to me. It feels as though an entire lifetime passes between us as I get caught in her gaze. Caught in watching her watching me with such lust. Caught in a world of her, on the other side of the flowers and sassy comebacks. A side I desperately want to explore.

Right fucking now.

“What the hell are you doing to me, Paisley Reign?” I sexily growl.

“I don’t know…” she purrs. “But whatever it is you’re feeling, just know I feel it too.”

Just know I feel it too.

The need to simply kiss Paisley and end this agonizing angst between us couldn’t be any stronger. Just as the resistance comes undone inside me, I’m too late because she steps back, and I let go of her ponytail.

Paisley gives me one last naughty grin before walking out the door, leaving me with a million forbidden thoughts, a heavy head, and an even harder cock.

“Sorry about that,” I announce, setting my phone back down on the restaurant’s polished chestnut table. “It was just my nonna checking in on me and wondering when I’m coming back to Santa Rosa because she wants to cook me—”

“Meatballs?” Paisley smiles, finishing off my sentence from across the table.

“Yeah.” My grin lights up in awe. “Exactly.”

Alaric’s brows knit beside her. “You psychic or something, sweetheart?”

Paisley rolls her eyes. “No, that’s his favorite food. You should have known that!”

He turns back to me, confused. “I thought your favorite food was falafel, no?”

“Fuck no. I’ve never touched that a day in my life.”

Alaric sits back in the booth, scratching the side of his head. He stares at me with furrowed brows as if he’s lost it. “Shit. Why did I say falafel then?”

My throat is seconds from closing as I down the rest of my Jack Daniel’s.

For the past two hours since we arrived at this exclusive contemporary restaurant, we’ve had a good time. It’s been a good distraction from all the shit in my life as stress fades away and I simply concentrate on the people around me instead.

Alaric.

Paisley.

Nico, beside me on my right. And Leo, at the head of the table on my left.

But I would be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that some of those moments were filled with long, stolen glances with Paisley throughout dinner whenever nobody was looking. Or the fact that I wish I could knock out our eyeballing server when he returns because his gaze always lingers on Paisley for a second too long. Not that I can do anything about it.

“What the fuck? Why the hell did I think you liked falafel?” My best friend continues.

Setting my bottle on the table, my gaze flickers from Paisley to her father before murmuring, “Because it was Lea’s favorite. I must have told you once.”

Running a hand over his clean-shaven jaw, Alaric groans in regret as if he’s just remembered the fact. “Ah, yes, that’s right. Fuck. I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s okay.”

But it’s not. Because I have no fucking idea how a single name of food can affect me so much. But it does. And I feel the complete impact of it with Paisley’s hot gaze. I haven’t turned to look at her, but seeing her from my peripheral vision is enough. I know she’s curious. I’ve never shared anything about Lea with her except for the fact of how burned I was. I’ve never gotten into the details with her. Not because I didn’t want to, it just never seemed right.

Nico’s the one to break the stiff silence. “You ever visit Lea’s parents?”

“No, they were never in the picture to begin with,” I gulp, picking the empty beer bottle once again as I turn to Nico. “Let’s just cool down on the subject, all right?”

He raises his hands, shrugging smugly. “Cooled down.”

We return to devouring the chocolate lava cakes we’ve improvised on as my birthday cake and Paisley’s graduation celebration. I eat as if I didn’t just freak the hell out and go into a mental block.

“Saint?” Paisley’s soft, sweet voice asks.

My heart is pounding out of my chest, knowing exactly what she’s going to ask next.

Who exactly is Lea?

It wouldn’t be the first time she asked it. I don’t even remember the shit I said to Paisley at the beach weeks ago when she asked, only that I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.

Now, as my eyes lift to see Paisley’s intense gaze on me, it’s confirmed. It’s as if we have a silent conversation through our eyes. She’s asking me something, wants me to allow her in. She’s the only person who doesn’t know my story with Lea at this table, yet deep down, I know she’s the only person aside from Alaric who would truly understand losing somebody you love.

I clear my throat. “Mhmmm?”

“Can you kindly pass me the water jug?”

Huh?

My brows furrow. “The water jug?”

Paisley innocently nods. “Yes, water jug, please. Sorry, I can’t reach it.”

Ohhh right.

Well, I wasn’t expecting her to ask about the water jug.

Collecting the jug, I swallow thickly and hand it to her with a soft smile. My mind is in pieces as she smiles back warmly, and I appreciate in this moment that she’s letting it be.

Paisley’s fingers brush with mine as we exchange the jug. I cast a glance around the table, ensuring all the men are heads down eating before I latch to her fingers. It’s just for a split moment, but all I need to feel like myself again as I mouth, “Thank you.”

Paisley nods, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of scarlet. The second Alaric’s head snaps up from his dessert, I let go of Paisley and go back to eating mine.

My best friend claps his hands together, grinning. It instantly brightens the mood. “All right! What do we say we drop Paisley home and the rest of us can head to Vegas?”

“Vegas?” Paisley’s the first to laugh as she turns to her father. “As if!”

“What?” He chuckles in defense, glancing between Leo, Nico, and me for some sort of backup. “Well, I was considerate, wasn’t I? Said to drop Paisley home and everything.”

I smile. “We’re not going to Vegas. Why are you so obsessed with it?”

Alaric groans, dramatically slamming his head against the table. “Okay, fine, just know I’m unfriending all of you in real life.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Leo laughs.

Alaric shakes his head with a mocking smile as he turns to me and points his thumb at Paisley. “Bro, help a man out. Defend me. Tell her Vegas is my happy place, and she should be happy her dad actually wants to go out and live life.”

“All right. Let me tell you what you want to hear, Pais.” I smirk, crossing my arms on the table and turning to her. Paisley’s eyes light up and so does my damn fucking chest. “Vegas is your father’s happy place. Literally. He arrives there a decent guy, returns home stumbling in Dorothy’s red shoes.”

The table roars in laughter, my best friend included.

“You’re so full of shit, man!” Alaric chuckles, shaking his head.

I smirk. “Truth hurts, huh?”

“That place ruins me and this idiot over here laughs, just because he never gets drunk anymore.”

I raise my beer, smirking smugly once again. “It’s called drinking responsibly.”

“Bull-fucking-shit.”

“You see, the thing you may not know about Saint is while the guy doesn’t get ruined on vino, you piss him the fuck off and he’ll knock you out cold.” Nico chuckles coldly, turning to Paisley. “Why do you think he went from boxer to personal trainer?”

Paisley’s eyes widen a fraction as she glances at me. Those gorgeous heart-shaped lips gape open in disbelief. “Really?”

I shake my head.

“No.” Clenching my jaw, I turn back to Nico and hiss, “Don’t bring shit like that up again, got it?”

Nico laughs mockingly as he draws his glass to his lips and nods toward Leo. “Hey, wanna remind our guy Saint over here about that match six years ago?”

“You mean when Saint knocked the guy out cold and then his opponent’s coach got into it, and so Saint knocked him out too?”

I meet Paisley’s eyes no matter how badly I want to avoid it… and I hate it. Hate she’s forced to see the monster in me. The one she claims she isn’t afraid of.

“I meant that one, yes.” Nico nods. “But you weren’t there for the fifth fight he did thirteen years ago now. You remember that, Saint? You knocked out the champion in the first ten seconds and then proceeded to—”

“Nico, stop.”

“What? Just sharing a little of your history. It’ll prevent Paisley from all the questions later, seeing as she’s the only one who doesn’t know about it.” He turns to her. “Right…?”

The beats in my chest are beyond fucking normal. Calm down, Saint. I can’t do anything to Nico. I can’t do anything with her bearing witness. No matter how much I fucking want to.

I grind my jaw with flared nostrils. “You always take it too fucking far, don’t you?”

“Oh, come on, Saint.” Alaric smiles. “We’re just messing around.”

“You know I don’t want to talk about that period of my life. This one over here,” I say, gesturing toward Nico, “needs two seconds of encouragement before he goes off on a tangent.”

Nico scoffs at my words. “Oh, loosen up, Saint. What? Want to be seen as a hero in front of a woman’s eyes?”

“This isn’t about Paisley.”

“Yeah, leave my fucking daughter out of it, man,” Alaric scolds.

“You both need to calm the fuck down,” Nico suddenly hisses. “God, Saint, it’s like I can’t mention anything to you anymore. First Lea and now your figh—”

“Don’t you fucking say her name again. Understood?” I growl, rising from my seat and walking toward the back of the restaurant before I lose all resistance and all hell breaks loose.

“Man, come back! Where are you going?” Alaric calls out from the table.

“I’ll be back. I need some space.”

Storming through the black-framed steel glass doors, I don’t dare to glance behind me. A few diners in the outdoor patio section glance my way, yet I continue walking past the laughing and joyous couples at tables. Past the fairy lights hanging off the stunning oak tree, its branches filled with circular lights. Past everything I once believed to be true—happiness.

By the steel balcony outlooking Sacramento’s skyline and darkening night sky, I pull out a cigarette and furiously light it.

I can’t fucking believe it.

Can’t believe Nico would take it this far when he knows how I feel about the subject.

As smoke fades into the winking stars and my heavy breaths are canceled out by people’s chatter, I notice my right hand trembling. It’s a habit I thought I lost years ago, yet now, in the midst of the war in my head, I can’t seem to let it go.

My lungs feel tight with every breath I take. I can’t do this. Thoughts of Lea circle my mind and I hate it. Hate that Nico has to dig up my past. I was fine going into today. Completely fine. Then he says her name and like a damn trigger, I react.

And then I hear the thick heel clicks of the only person who can save me from it all.

“Is this spot taken?” that soft voice I know so damn well asks from behind.

Paisley.

Paisley’s here.

It’s going to be okay.

I spin around, replaceing those sweet honey-brown eyes staring back at me. There’s a placid smile on her lips and she doesn’t wait for my permission before coming to stand beside me on the balcony. For a split moment staring out into the world is all we do, city lights and red-and-white car lights blanketing the view for miles on end.

“I told my father I would come out and check on you… simmer the situation if I could.”

“Thank you.” Shaking my head to myself, I blow out another drag. “After everything you heard, you probably think I’m a fucking monster.”

“I don’t.”

I scoff, not daring to look at her. “You should, Paisley. You really should.”

When she says nothing more, I drop the damn cigarette and crush it underneath my Italian leather derby shoes. Her jasmine scent taunts me, reminding me that I’m not alone out here. She came. Out of everybody at the table and after everything she heard, she still came.

“You can ask me…” I sigh after moments of deafening silence trickling between us. “I know you want to know.”

“Want to know what?”

Swallowing thickly, I turn to her, watching her eyes sparkle. “Who Lea is.”

“I would be lying if I said it isn’t eating away at me, but I also respect you enough to know that if it’s something you’re not comfortable with sharing right now, then that’s okay. When you’re ready, if you’re ready, then you’ll let me into the loop.”

I simply stare at Paisley, a warm smile forming at the words she just spoke. “More people should be like you.”

“How’s that?”

“Considerate.”

Paisley lets out a small laugh. “With the number of things I’ve said to you when I was younger… I don’t think you would call that considerate, beginning with how I ambushed you on your first day of moving in next door because you stepped on my flowers. I could have approached the situation differently, not thinking I was the tough guy and all.”

“True. But you know what I mean. You don’t judge me, even though you should.”

“I trust and respect you too much to judge you. All the crap you know about me and my emotional baggage… you never judged me for it. So why should I judge you?”

“Because this is different.” I sigh. “What Nico and Leo were saying… it’s true. That should scare you. It should… I don’t know, make you not want to be here with me right now.”

“Nothing could ever make me not see you in the way I do.”

The air crackles between us. Casting a quick glance over my shoulder toward the large steel Fleetwood doors that divide the indoor-outdoor restaurant, I make sure the coast is clear and neither her father, nor Nico or Leo have come out in search of us. When it’s clear, I glance back at her.

“And how is it you see me?” I whisper, taking a step closer to her.

Paisley looks away, but I take her hands and lace them in mine. I don’t care my right hand is still trembling. Tonight, I want her to see me for me. No more facades. Just me.

“Tell me, Pais. I need to know,” I murmur, a knot at the back of my throat. “If I’m not a monster to you, then what am I? Is it worse than that?”

“No.” She smiles sadly. “I see you as Saint Lisconti, the Maserati obsessed boxing personal trainer. The man who perhaps doesn’t always get it his way, but when he does, he knows how to cherish it. The man who puts on this tough, dominant façade but has a heart of gold. You’re intimating to people, and yet your nonna will give you your favorite food and you’ll melt right there in her arms. You don’t seek permission to go out and clasp what sets your soul on fire—I admire that. But most importantly, what I see the most, is a man I trust wholeheartedly with no hesitation whatsoever, because while you used to knock opponents out in the ring, I know you will never hurt me. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not mentally. And that means a lot to me, because I’ve been burned before… Whenever I glance at you and you look back, you feel like the very water replenishing me. Every time I think my bloom is over, you revive me.”

Whoa.

I can’t take my eyes off Paisley after the beauty of her words. There’s this abundance in my chest, something I haven’t felt in over a decade, and it scares and excites me all at the same time. I have never felt so deeply before, and something tells me I will never feel like this again.

Paisley’s words speak to me, right to my soul, a place nobody else has dared to put one finger on before. Right now, watching her watch me… I can’t get over how beautiful she is. Not only physically, but mentally. Her mind is something special. Intelligent. Generous. Thoughtful. My type of special, a part of me wants to add.

“That was beautiful, Paisley,” I tell her, glancing between her eyes with a forming smile. “Nobody has ever told me anything like that before.”

“I’m only speaking from the heart.”

I never knew how much Paisley Reign would mean to me the day she accused me of stepping on her flowers, but now… three years later, I can’t imagine a life without her in it.

It’s as if she’s my revival.

My very strength.

The very thing keeping me afloat.

Stepping back, I slowly rub my face as my vision blurs. “Why do I feel like you’re the only person who truly understands me? Why?”

“It must be the flowers.”

“Must be.” I laugh through all the emotion I’m feeling. “I’m surprised you weren’t reciting them before at the table.”

“As I said, I wasn’t scared.”

That has me gulping down and admitting to her my greatest fear; one I’ve been carrying for a whole decade now. “But I am. I’m scared. That day at the cemetery when you told me your fears… I comforted you, but mine are the same. I’m so scared. Of this. Of living. Of dying. Of what comes next. Of loving. Of you…” I say, my voice cracking. “Because I’m scared of caring for you in the way that I do and as much as I do. I’m scared of it being too good to be true. I don’t want to lose you, Paisley, but I don’t see how… how this could ever be more than this because I can never ever be enough for you.”

The second Paisley steps closer to pull my hands away from my face, she bears witness to the warm tears rolling down my cheeks. Her eyes search mine so emotively desperate as if it’s her place to ease the pain inside me. Never in my fucking life has a woman enticed and confused me more. Never have I cried in front of anybody since I was a kid.

“Don’t be scared, Saint, not of me,” Paisley reassures me so lovingly it hurts. When she rubs my stubbled jaw, my eyes shut. “You’re enough. You’re not only enough for me, you’re enough for yourself.”

“No, I’m not—”

“Yes, you freaking are,” she sniffles, drawing me closer by my jaw. Her hands are fucking velvet against my spiky beard as she caresses my tears away with her thumbs ever so slowly. “You always have been. Believe me when I say you always have been, Saint.”

“Your father could come out and see—”

“Shhh,” Paisley whispers so damn close, her right hand falling. Seconds later, it grips my trembling hand, and she draws my palm to her warm chest, her own hand lacing over mine. “Don’t worry about anything else but this. Concentrate on my heartbeats, on my breaths.”

I give in to Paisley’s comfort and in to the fact that despite everything, she is the one to relax my shoulders and ease my shaking hand with the simple beats of her heart. She’s the one to refill my lungs, pull me back into life and make me forget about everything else.

The sensation is new to me. As my hand rests on top of her cleavage, tranquility takes over me. Knowing that this is Paisley, it fucking calms me, when deep down I know it should be the opposite.

Snapping my eyes open, I see hers are peacefully closed and realize that perhaps she needs this as much as I do. Leaning my head into her left hand, I kiss her wrist. This has Paisley fluttering her eyes open, and without a second thought, I wrap her in my arms. Burying my head into her neck, I allow myself to feel everything I’ve been hiding away for the past years… Vulnerability. I have never felt this damn vulnerable, and this damn content at the same time.

I appreciate the way Paisley tangles her free hand through my tousled hair, the other running circles on my back. Appreciate the way my rapid breaths soothe in her hold. Appreciate that in this moment I’m being greedy and need her comfort a fraction more than she needs mine.

Nobody has ever comforted me like this before.

Nobody has made me feel this calm.

“You okay, Saint?”

“Mmhmm,” I murmur against her neck. “I’m sorry for breaking down like that.”

“Emotions don’t make us fragile, they set us free. It just took me this long to realize it too… Should we head back in?”

“Yeah, you can. I’ll be there in a second.”

We pull away from the embrace and Paisley frowns, giving me a warm look that I simply want to capture and never want to look away from again. A forbidden look that says the opposite to everything that is right, but exactly how I’m feeling. A comfortable silence fills the space between us, even after she squeezes my shoulder one last time before walking back inside the restaurant.

It’s crazy how the rumbling commotion of the diners behind me fizzled out in the moments before. I didn’t hear a single thing when I confessed to her how I feel or when she cupped my jaw or when I held her. Not a single thing. Just Paisley.

Paisley’s jaw drops at the sight of my Harley stationed in my driveway and I can’t help but smirk. It’s a FXDB model, sleek phantom black with classic dark chrome trimmings and just the right number of custom aspects to suit a man like me—like the outlined angel wings on the side of my motorbike near the Harley Davidson logo.

It’s the kind of angelic beast that turns heads whenever I ride past. She’s a looker. Therapy. A piece of me I’ll never part from. I’ve been riding for so long the engine’s rumble has synchronized with the beats in my chest. The Harley and whiskey-infused pitter-patters never let go. When it does, so will my soul.

It’s finally Saturday and just over a week since Paisley and I vowed we’d let each other step into our worlds on a deeper level. It’s also the day after I completely broke down in front of her and she was there for me. When I stepped back inside that restaurant last night, I felt much more cooled off and apologized to my friends for lashing out. I know they were only trying to help me out. It’s also two days since she graduated and I’m so goddamn proud of her, and although I couldn’t celebrate her success with her alone because Alaric was in the way, today I could.

Paisley and I planned this meet-up without her father knowing and he’s currently beginning a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. Despite breaking bro code, I thought it would be a good way to end the week by introducing Paisley to my world with one of the things I adore most—therapeutic Harley rides in the warm summer breeze with breathtaking California views. It means having some time away from Sacramento… time alone with her.

“You mean we’re actually going to ride around on this beauty?” Paisley gasps.

I tug on my sand-colored leather gloves with my teeth, wiggling my fingers in place. “Mhmmm.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening. I’m not getting on your Harley. I mean, what if I fall off?”

I smugly roll my eyes, a smirk creeping up the corner of my lips. “You’re not gonna fall off. I promise. You don’t trust me?”

“Of course I trust you. It’s just that… well, I…”

I arch a playful brow. “Making up excuses now, huh?”

“Me? No, no, of course not. I’m just concerned, you know, for my life!” Paisley laughs.

“Don’t need to be. I wouldn’t hurt you, wildflower. Would hurt myself before I hurt you. You know that. My father was a Harley fanatic. That’s where I get it from. While other kids dreamed of being racecar drivers, I used to imagine riding around California on a metal beast. I used to work restoring and maintaining Harleys back in Santa Rosa for a good five years before boxing. I’ve been riding them for twenty years now and—”

“Wait…” Paisley cuts me off with wide eyes. “Did you just say twenty years?”

“I started in 1997… so yeah, twenty.”

“Gosh, I wasn’t even born until two years later.”

A chuckle rumbles between us. “Just realized that…”

“Also, did you just admit you started riding when you were sixteen?”

I smirk. “Keeping tabs on my age, huh?”

“Maybe… okay, yes.” She laughs. “What I meant to say is sixteen seems really young to have responsibility for a motorbike like that on the road.”

“To some, yeah.”

“Uh, I think to most, Saint.”

“True.” I tuck my helmet under my arm and hand her the other helmet. “I guess one just has to not fuck shit up and know what they’re doing at that age.”

“Which you obviously knew.”

“Exactly.” I wink. “But my point is… If there’s anybody who’ll keep you safe around the rolling hills, switchbacks, and speed, it’s me. You said you wanted to get the full extent of who I am. This is who I am, Paisley. Harleys. Whiskey. Late nights. If you want to know my world, you need to experience the things I love most. So, are you in?”

Goddamn how beautiful Paisley is as she sexily bites her lower lip in apprehension. Her naturally plump lips are heart-shaped and so damn kissable, coated with a glossy cherry-red I so desperately want to suck on and taste. I love it because Paisley knows exactly what she’s doing to both my mind and semi-hard cock when she bites her lip like that, but she decides to do it anyway. It’s so evident in the slight smirk she makes whenever she catches me staring for too long… she knows she’s unlocking the beast in me, not that it takes much to come out whenever I’m with her.

Yeah, this woman is going to be the death of me.

Adventurous deep-set eyes. Sun-kissed olive skin with gorgeous soft freckles that come to light whenever she’s out in the sun for too long. Silky hair pulled back in a low bun with two wavy strands framing her face. So damn beautiful. Paisley takes my breath away.

She’s wearing a black fitted top with a deep V-neck and frilly short sleeves, cropped white leather jacket and sexy denim shorts that continue to drive me crazy from the second she stepped outside of her house. It’s not healthy for a man like me to see those gorgeous long legs. Even the floral pattern on her white Converse shoes fills my chest with indescribable warmth. Don’t get me started about how well that white biker leather jacket suits her. There’s something about seeing Paisley in leather that turns me the fuck on even more. I love the edgy style she’s put together today.

“Yes!” Paisley begins bouncing on the spot. “I’m in!”

Her words make me grin. I’ve been fuckin’ stoked for this ride. She’s never been on a Harley before, or motorcycles in general, so I know just how nervous she must be feeling. But the fact that she trusts me enough to keep her safe while we’re flying across Sacramento feels so damn good.

At first, I admit I was hesitant about today because I’ve never intended to let somebody into my world this intensely after Lea. It was a no-go zone. The same reason I’ve only been in casual relationships since because I was destined to ruin anything else. But Paisley… She has this way of looking at me that has me wanting to strip down my every flaw and give her everything she desires.

It’s in her presence alone. In her warmth. In the deep connection and bond between us. She’s been the only woman in thirteen years who makes me want to lower the walls I’ve placed between myself and the world. Paisley makes me want to break out of the cold exterior shell I wrapped around myself to protect myself from getting hurt. She is chipping away at the vulnerable man beneath, a fixer to my every fault… And that means a lot to me.

I smile. “All right, let’s get you all safe and shit.”

I set my dark helmet on my driveway near my biker boots and take hers from her. It’s the same high-end full-face helmet as mine, only white. Paisley dramatically does the sign of the cross twice before I slip on her helmet and all I can do is tip my head back in laughter.

Christ. She seriously thinks I’m gonna kill her.

I lift up her helmet visor and our eyes meet, unobstructed. We share a heated stare, an extended one that doesn’t break for a single second as I blindly fasten her helmet strap.

“Just so you know, I do trust you…” Paisley reassures me, her eyes forming small slits that let me know she’s grinning. “But sometimes you’ve just got to let God do his job, you know?”

“You’re still nervous, huh?”

“Very,” she breathes, all raspy and… sexy.

God, Lisconti, get a grip.

Swallowing thickly, I glance between her eyes and say, “Let’s change that, okay?”

“Okay.”

A soft gasp escapes when I zip up her leather jacket, slowing by her breasts before I step away and place her small beach duffle bag into my motorcycle’s side leather saddlebag. My phone is in my handlebar bag, alongside my set of keys, wallet, and a half-full packet of cigarettes, just in case I need a breather because today’s an important day for me. I’ll be taking Paisley to a place close to my heart, a place I’ve never let any other woman see in a long, long time.

This is all a part of showing Paisley Reign more of who I am.

Finally, I zip up my leather vest and handle bag. Raking a hand through my dark, tousled hair, I turn to her and flick down her helmet visor. “No need to be nervous. I promise.”

“Mmhmmm. I trust you, Saint.”

“Good. When we get on, I want your hands around me at all times. No need to crush my lungs, but I do need some tension in those arms whenever I make a turn. Trust the bike. Trust me. In saying so, if you need me to slow down or stop for any reason, tell me. There’s a Bluetooth intercom system between rider and passenger in these helmets. They’ll sync up the second I put mine on, so I’ll be able to hear all the curse words, or in your case, I’ll probably become an expert in flowers by the end of this. Lucky me. Got it?”

“Got it. An intercom system? So cool! I didn’t know they made helmets like this.”

After I zip up my black leather vest and handlebar bag, I slip on my helmet and the usual soft chime alerts me our helmets are now synced. Gripping the handlebars, I swing my leg over the bike from the kickstand side and mount it, my feet firm on the ground.

I turn to Paisley and grin through the helmet. “Welcome to my world, wildflower.”

Welcome to my world.